


Apathetic Consumption

by ko_drabbles



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Drabble, Eating Disorders, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 11:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17827781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ko_drabbles/pseuds/ko_drabbles
Summary: He's hungry, but that doesn't mean he'll eat.





	Apathetic Consumption

It’s odd, Tamaki thinks, to be hungry but not wanting to eat. It’s not violent disgust, but apathy, and an appreciation of how the slight ache feels in his hollow stomach. It’d be easy to sate, especially as they were in Kyoya’s room to study and snack foods were shoved anywhere they could be hidden. Just to be there.

He’d never seen Kyoya reach for them – freeze-dried ramen noodles and mini-donut biscuits and even a jar of blackberry jam – but they were there. In a way, he supposed it was like a toddler clinging onto a security blanket; or a teen currently hugging his knees to his chest, almost revelling in the waves of hunger. Kyoya liked his food to be close, because while he didn’t eat often (due to work, he was too busy, he’ll eat later), when he did it was comparable to the feasts of ancient Rome. He could eat himself sick – cartons and plastic wrappers and other containers piled high – all in five minutes. He could tear through it all like a ravenous beast, because it was almost like he became one in those circumstances.

But it was fine, because who hadn’t done that? Haruhi had, Honey occasionally managed to overload on sugar (even by his standards), and Tamaki knew what it was like to have your stomach far too full, distended under his fingertips, back hunched as everything came spewing back out and into the porcelain bowl. Rare, but still all too frequent for something that harrowing.

He could eat now, sitting across from Kyoya with diagrams and equations and neat kanji all drawn in black ink and sectioned off with knife-edge-like, lavender washi tape. Kyoya kept very beautiful notes, rewriting them all so perfectly with fine-liner. It made sense, considering everything he did was just as elegant and finely detailed; even his figure looked as if he was drawn in fine-liner and a ruler, everything thin and angular and perfect. He was perfect.

He could reach over to Kyoya’s filling cabinet, and a sleeve of crackers would brush against his fingertips – salty, slightly sweet, and _satisfying_. Four thin crackers to an individual packet, sectioned into three. Barely anything, yet so much. Because something else Tamaki found satisfying was ice cold water slipping down into an empty stomach, and the pitcher in the centre of the table was closer than the crackers.

A bead of condensation slipped down the fogged glass, and all he could do was lick his lip as his eyes were trained on it. Kyoya didn’t notice, which would sound surprising, but he realised months ago that things could slip passed Kyoya’s notice. Twenty-three pounds, for example. Not much, not when he thought about it, but something.

It wasn’t too bad, anyway. It wasn’t, because people threw up or skipped meals occasionally. Teenage boys had snacks in their rooms. Other boys grew a few inches and got left with visible ribs and concave stomachs. Even if they didn’t appreciate hunger pangs like he did, or they wanted to eat when they were hungry.

The ice water felt so good going down, and Kyoya would still have the sleeve of crackers in his filing cabinet. So, it was okay. It was all okay.

**Author's Note:**

> May have a continuation, but idk.


End file.
